


Your Only Crime was to Steal My Heart

by Alielp



Category: Holby City
Genre: AU, Elinor lives although not featured, F/F, Mention of guns, Police officer/Security Specialist, Sexuality Confusion, Slow Burn, fire/burns, mild sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:56:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9551891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alielp/pseuds/Alielp
Summary: Serena is a Detective Sergeant in the CID.  Bernie is a personal and event Security Specialist.  Their first meeting is antagonistic.  But when events throw them together into peril, will their undeniable chemistry be given a chance?*ALL CHAPTERS BEING UPDATED WITH GRAPHICS*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sat on this story for a while now, debating continuing vs throwing it out. So, it very nearly never made it to publish (and probably still shouldn’t have!). 
> 
> If anyone knows anything about the British Police force, you should probably be aware that I gave Reality a kiss on the cheek and sent it off into the world, because it has no place here!!!
> 
> In fact, my alternative working title for this was ‘How Many Cliches Can You Pack Into One Story’, or ‘Slightly Incoherent and Unbelievable Plot Merely There to Further Character Relationship’. Feel free to pick one, and proceed at your own peril.
> 
> Chapter 1 sets things up. The story really gets going in Chapter 2!
> 
> Regardless of it's quality, I had a lot of fun writing this. Comments always welcomed!

Detective Inspector Serena Campbell was in her first month of her new position at the Holby City Criminal Investigations Department.  If asked, she would tell you that she had settled in very nicely, thank you, and that she thoroughly enjoyed her work.  In fact, only half of that statement was true.

She had indeed settled in well, and had quickly got to know her team’s strengths and weaknesses.  She was a fair boss, and extremely supportive of the Detectives who worked for her, and whilst she was still the occasional subject of some hidden ribbing because of her gender, for the most part, her team seemed to support her in return.  

No, the part of the statement that wasn't so accurate was about her enjoyment level for her work.  So far, she had only been allocated the most minor and mundane cases, anything juicier had been handed off to one or other of her peers.  Whilst she appreciated that she was new to the CID, and that her superiors would want to test her worth, she also felt that she would never be able to prove herself if she wasn't given a chance, and a decent case to prove herself with.

Her current case was, excuse the pun, a case in point.  An altercation in a club, after a gig held there by a high profile band.  Two men, no doubt tanked up on alcohol, had attacked each other, and one of them had been carrying a weapon.  Whilst the situation had been halted by the on site security staff, one of the men involved had been injured.  Not seriously, but badly enough to require a hospital visit.  The other had been arrested for assault.  The arrestee had managed to complicate things further when, as part of his interview, he had implicated a member of the security staff as being part of the attack - no doubt in a half cocked attempt to save his own skin.  Regardless, it was still something that required further investigation.  And to that end, the security person had now herself been brought in for questioning.

Serena scanned the report in front of her, ensuring that she was fully familiar with the details of the assault before beginning the interview.  She glanced up, calling over to one of the Sergeants working at the desk opposite.

“Can you run a check on this Berenice Wolfe, Di Lucca?  I want to know if she's got any priors before I go in.”

“Bernie Wolfe?  No need, guv.  She’s been cleared before.  She's clean, one of the good ones.”

Serena frowned, shooting daggers at Di Lucca.

“I don’t care if she’s been cleared before.  Run it again!”

Di Lucca sighed, before acquiescing.  “Right.  One moment.  Here, her name’s come up in conjunction with half a dozen reports of unrest, but not as a participant.  She gets it sorted.  Like I told you, guv, she's on our side.”

“Hmm.  That’s all well and good, yet still she’s the subject of this allegation, and we have no choice but to take the appropriate actions, Detective Sergeant.”

Serena fixed Di Lucca with a firm look, closing the file sharply, then gathering it up as she rose and walked off toward the interview room.

 

From the office across the room, she was watched by DCI Griffin, and the visiting DCS Hanssen, who had been responsible for her appointment to the role.  Following her with his eyes, Hanssen spoke.

“Keep your eye on that one, Griffin.  She's ambitious.”

“What, Campbell?  Nah. She's got a kid, hasn't she?  Kids make women weak.  She hasn't got the balls to make it!”

“She may yet surprise you”, Hanssen turned his cool gaze on Griffin.  “That woman is pure ice and steel.  You'd be foolish to underestimate her.”

 

Serena entered the interview room, sweeping her eyes over the slender woman seated in the chair, taking in the messy yet effortlessly stylish blonde hair, and the long, toned limbs encased in a fitted suit.  The woman was chatting and laughing with DC Fletcher, who was perched on the corner of the interview desk.  Serena closed the door behind her with a decisive click, and went to take a seat opposite the woman.  She took a moment to glare at Fletch for his unprofessional demeanour, before she opened her file, making a show of looking through the reports that she had already memorised.  Fletch sheepishly jumped down from his perch, walking quickly round the table to take the chair beside Serena.  

Finally, when Fletch was seated, Serena lifted her eyes to meet those of the woman before her.  As her gaze locked with that of Ms Berenice Wolfe, Serena felt an unexpected bolt of electricity rush through her body, and suddenly the room seemed stuffy and airless.  She blinked in confusion, dropping her eyes again to the papers before her, allowing herself time to regroup.  What on earth was the matter with her?  Not enough breakfast; her blood sugars must be dipping.  That must be it.  She couldn't think what else would have produced such a strange reaction.  She took a deep breath and looked up once more.

“So, Ms Wolfe.  I'm DS Campbell.”

“Bernie, please.  I’m pleased to meet you, DS Campbell” replied the woman.

Serena felt another inexplicable tug at the sound of Berenice Wolfe’s low, modulated tone.  It suited her well, she thought.  There was something about the woman before her which exuded elegance.  She wasn’t classically beautiful, but with her warm brown eyes and her strong, even features, she was definitely a very attractive woman.  And yet everything about her seemed artless, as if it had just fallen to her to be this way, where other women would have to work hard with makeup and styling to achieve a lesser result.  She also exuded a strange magnetism, causing Serena to feel unusually drawn to her, a feeling that she was neither familiar nor comfortable with.  Caught up in her assessment, Serena struggled to find words to describe her impressions.  If she were a man, Serena might perhaps have chosen the label sexy. Naturally elegant and effortlessly sexy.  But there was no doubt that Berenice Wolfe was not a man, and, unaccustomed as she was to such thoughts,  Serena found it too disturbing to apply that term to a woman.

Bernie’s look had become quizzical under Serena’s intense scrutiny, and noticing this, Serena made an effort to drag her errant thoughts back to the case.  She cleared her throat before speaking.

“Would you please talk me through the events of last night?” she began.

“Certainly,” responded Bernie, beginning her tale.  She fully detailed  the events of the altercation, speaking eloquently yet efficiently with relaxed and open body language.

Serena made notes, listening and questioning intently, yet at the same time mesmerised by the movement of Bernie’s lips as she spoke.  She had never really noticed before how expressive lips could be when forming words.  The little quirks, the upward or downward draws, depending on the sound being uttered.  With a flash of disconcerting comprehension, she realised that she could watch and listen to this woman speak all day.

As Bernie finished describing what had happened, Serena quickly rescanned the other pages from the file, assuring herself that Bernie’s words were corroborated by the eyewitness reports that were taken at the scene.

With this confirmation, Serena was generally satisfied that Bernie’s recount of the earlier events was truthful.  However, there was nevertheless still something about this Berenice Wolfe which bothered her.  Or more to the point, something about her reaction to Bernie.  Some sixth sense, something that just made her feel a heightened state of alert.  Not entirely comfortable with the feeling, she decided to push a little further.

“I may be new to the area, but I like to know the players on my turf.  And your name, Ms Wolfe, has appeared on several reports now.  You seem to find yourself around trouble a fair bit of the time.  And that makes you of interest to me.” she stated, narrowing her eyes and leaning forward.  Beside her, Fletch shifted uncomfortably in his chair at the unwarrantedly adversarial approach she had adopted.

“I'm good at my job, DI Campbell.”  replied Bernie, mildly.  “I work a lot of events.  It's in the nature of my job to step in when things become… Unruly.”

“And as I’m sure you appreciate, it's in the nature of mine to investigate when one particular individual persists in popping up during reports of violence.”  Serena spoke firmly.

“Did you encounter many security personnel on your previous, um, turf, DI Campbell?”  asked Bernie, curiously.

“One or two.  But you stand unique among them!”

“Indeed?”  Bernie raised her eyebrows.  “Very well, ask whatever questions you need to.”

“How did you come to this job, anyway?  There's nothing of you!  I mean you're tall, but you're not exactly a bodybuilder?”  As soon as she had spoken the words, Serena inwardly winced.  This was hardly a professional line of questioning.

“I'm stronger than I look.”  Bernie gave a small smile.

“You'd have to be.  But you still don't look like you could best a large or inebriated man!”

Bernie had been tolerant to this point, despite Serena’s oddly confrontational questions.  But now, she sat forward in her seat, surprised and a little annoyed at Serena’s words.

“Providing personal security is far more than just brawling, as I’m sure you’re aware.”  she responded in clipped tones.  “Having said that, I am perfectly able to take care of myself.  And as someone who has no doubt encountered a lot of sexism in your job, you're surprisingly opinionated about the role my gender should play in mine, DI Campbell.  I am more than capable of fulfilling my role as well as any male.  In fact, if you check through your records fully, you'll see that in all the reports bearing my name, as with tonight, the incidents in question had all been fully dealt with and defused prior to the arrival of the police, and on every other occasion without serious damage or injury.  I believe I can confidently say that I am the only local security specialist who can make that claim.  And you, DI Campbell.  Are you as good at your job as a man would be?”

Serena bit back her instinctive sharp retort, heat rising in her cheeks as she recognised that Bernie had every right to respond in that way.  She felt both ashamed and confused at her antagonism toward Bernie.  Bernie had been nothing but pleasant and helpful, her account of the attack had been corroborated by other witnesses, there was no reason at all to have done anything other than thanked her for her assistance, and sent her off on her way.  Why, then, had she felt the need to question Bernie further, and in such a sexist and aggressive manner?   _ What _ was it about this woman that had got under her skin so? She swallowed her ire and shame, and responded calmly.

“I'm stronger than I look, too.  I think that will be all, Ms Wolfe.  You're free to go.  Thank you for your time.”

Bernie, her annoyance dissipating as she watched the struggle play out across Serena’s face, got up from her chair, and walked to the interview room door.  She had not been immune to the tension that had crackled between them, although, unlike Serena, she felt able to confidently name the cause.  She turned back to Serena as she opened the door.

“Next time, I think we should put this strength to the test.  Perhaps an arm wrestle?!”  And with a wink, Bernie slipped through the door, leaving Serena staring after her, mouth hanging open.

[](http://s1146.photobucket.com/user/Alielp/media/YOCWTSMH%20Chapter%201_zpslnoy7e9t.jpg.html)


	2. Chapter 2

Several months passed, and Serena largely forgot about the existence of Berenice Wolfe - apart from the occasional snippet of conversation overheard between beat coppers about some situation or other averted by the aforementioned woman.  

Serena’s main focus was climbing the career ladder - this transfer into the Holby CID had proven to be a smart career move, and she had a further promotion to Detective Chief Inspector firmly in her sights.  She hadn’t had to wait too long before she had been given a chance with a couple of more in depth cases, and she had proven her worth to the brass.  With the continued support of the Super, if she kept up her current case closure rate, she reckoned she’d have a fighting chance within a year.

Now, if she could only crack this particular case they had hanging over them.  There had been a spate of robberies, targeting the wealthier inhabitants of the city.  The robberies had been gradually increasing in both daring and violence, until the inevitable had happened, and the most recent robberies had resulted in homicide.  Serena had her team pouring over the case files for each attack, revisiting the scenes, and re-interviewing surviving victims, desperately searching for a link, or any shared evidence within the reports.

 

The spate of robberies had also kept Bernie extremely busy.  Business had always been steady, but now with so many of the high powered crowd concerned for their safety and that of their possessions, Bernie found herself more and more in demand as personal security for individuals and not just for events.  Despite her busy schedule, however, Bernie had thought about Serena rather a lot.  In fact, as she was stood on duty right now, as a personal bodyguard for a prominent and extremely wealthy banker and his wife who were currently attending the opening of an art exhibit,  Serena was featuring rather heavily in her thoughts.  She had been intrigued by this woman.  Serena had outwardly seemed so confident and in control, and yet clearly had so much running beneath the surface, brief flashes of which had occasionally shown on her otherwise schooled features.  It certainly hadn’t hurt that she had been so attractive.  Those eyes.  So dark and beautiful and expressive.  Not to mention her brows, their quirks punctuating her words.  The strong line of her jaw, with the little cleft in her chin.  Bernie wondered what Serena would look like when she smiled.  In her imagination, a smile from Serena could light up the world.  

Bernie shook her head slightly, banishing the thoughts from her mind.  She had always had a thing for brunettes, starting with her husband, and then when her marriage had eventually failed and she’d discovered that her tastes ran more to the sapphic persuasion, it had still been darker hair that she had been drawn to.  And there were plenty of brunette women out there.  Silly to keep thinking about a police officer who she had only met the once.

Bernie turned, surveying the room once more, her vigilance level rising.  The evening was winding down now, and whilst there had been only a small chance of an attack during the event, the high risk points were during transport to and from the event.  Bernie stood to the side of the banker and his wife, eyes constantly sweeping the room as they shook hands with the gallery owner and artist, and made their goodbyes.  She escorted them to the exit, stepping outside first to scan the surrounding area for threats.  Finally satisfied that all was clear, Bernie ushered the banker and his wife into their waiting car, before slipping into the front seat next to the driver for the journey back to their house.

Fifteen minutes later, the driver pulled up outside the bankers home.  Bernie jumped out of the passenger seat, scanning the dark street before moving around to the back to open the door for the banker.  As he began to step out of the car, he looked up at the house, then turned to his wife.

“Did you leave a light on upstairs, dear?” he asked.

“Most definitely not,” responded his wife, “why on earth would I have done such a thing?”

“Perhaps in error?” he asked.

His wife glared at him in response.  Looking up at the light in the upstairs window, Bernie mentally calculated the likelihood that this situation was nothing more than either Mr or Mrs Winslade having indeed left a light on, and merely having forgotten, or being too stubborn to make the admission.  However, it was her job to be sure.

“May I ask you to get back into the car, Mr Winslade?  Since neither you nor your wife remember leaving the light on in your house, I’d like to check it out. May I have your keys?”

“What?  Yes, OK.”  replied the banker, gruffly.  Bernie took the keys, shutting the car door quietly behind him, before tapping on the drivers window and asking him to take the car around the block.

As the car pulled away, Bernie stood looking up at the lit window, working out it’s general location in the house.   As she watched, however, the light was suddenly extinguished.  Bernie’s alert level rocketed, and she drew her phone out of her pocket, dialling the police.  After reporting the suspected burglary to the main police controller, she thought for a moment, before quickly dialling Fletch's number. She and Fletch crossed paths periodically when they were both out for drinks with mutual acquaintances, and she knew from their last social that Fletch and his team were working on the burglary case.

She spoke in a low whisper as she explained the situation.

“I'm with the guv right now, we're on our way.” said Fletch. “Don’t do anything stupid before we get there, Bernie.”

“Hurry, Fletch. I want to get this joker.”

“Roger that!” said Fletch.

Bernie crept up the drive, sinking low into the bushes beneath the living room window. Through the darkened window, she could see a faint hint of light emanating from down the hallway, so seemingly a light had also been turned on in some other room, probably still upstairs. She stayed in her vantage point, head low, but keeping watch.

 

After what seemed like hours, but was actually little more than 5 minutes, an unmarked car pulled up a few houses away, and quiet footsteps approached the house. Bernie stayed perfectly still, listening out, until she heard a low voice whisper

“Bernie?”

It was Fletch. Bernie slid quietly out from her spot below the window, slipping across the drive to the tall hedge bordering the side of the house from where the call had come.

“Fletch! Hi!” she whispered. “You beat the main cavalry!”

Suddenly Bernie noticed who had accompanied Fletcher.

“Oh!” she exclaimed.  In the tension of the moment, she hadn't thought about who Fletch had been referring to when he'd told her he was with his 'guv'. She stood, staring for a moment, the current situation forgotten as she took in Serena's features. Serena was even more beautiful than she had remembered, realised Bernie with a jolt.

“DI Campbell, hello!” she whispered finally, eyes locked with Serena’s.

“Yeah, we weren't far away, just following up another lead” said Fletch, breaking the spell.

Serena, who had been equally affected by the sight of Bernie, cleared her throat quietly.

“Ms Wolfe, - Bernie. Situation report?”

Bernie swiftly ran through the events since pulling up outside the house, offering her observations following her surveillance through the window.

“Right,” said Serena, taking charge.  “We’re not going to wait for the cavalry.  Fletch, you head around the back.  Call in a sit rep before you go in.  I’ll take the front.  Bernie, you wait here for backup.”

“No way!” said Bernie.  “I’m coming in, I can handle myself.  Plus, I’ve got the keys!”  she waved the keyring in front of Serena’s face.

“Are you armed?”  asked Serena

“No.” replied Bernie.

“Fine.  Then stay back.”

Bernie slipped the back door key from the hook, passing it to Fletch before handing the rest of the keys to Serena.  Fletch disappeared off into the darkness, and Serena crept up the driveway to the front door, Bernie following closely behind.

Serena slipped the key into the lock, turning it with a small click.  She pushed the door open a fraction, pausing to listen.  After a moment, when she was satisfied that there was no response to the sounds of their entry, she pushed the door open further and crept into the hallway.  Moving quietly down the hall, Serena confirmed that the light source Bernie had detected through the window was indeed coming from up the stairs.  Seeing Fletch appear, having let himself in through the back door, Serena gestured to him to clear the rooms downstairs, whilst she herself would head upstairs.  Fletch nodded in understanding and drew his gun, beginning his sweep.

Serena indicated to Bernie that she should remain downstairs, rolling her eyes when Bernie shook her head fiercely in response.  Together, they headed up the stairs.  The front of the house seemed dark and quiet, the light was emanating from a room toward the back.  Pushing Bernie further behind her, and flattening herself against the wall, Serena edged along the hallway toward the light.  

Suddenly, from behind them, there was a loud crack as something hit the floor, and Bernie launched herself at Serena, propelling her further down the hall before pushing her to the ground, and flinging herself on top of Serena.  Behind them, a fireball blossomed, cutting off their escape route, it’s spreading flames beginning to lick up the walls.  Beyond the flames, running feet could be heard heading down the stairs.

 

For a moment, despite the danger, neither Bernie nor Serena moved.  Bernie stared down at Serena, almost nose to nose, her arms braced either side of Serena’s head in an attempt to shield her.  Their breasts were pressed together, one of Bernie’s legs was pushed hard between Serena’s.  Serena’s hands lifted involuntarily, resting briefly upon Bernie’s hips.  Breath mingled, heat rising between them just as the heat from the explosion began to register on Bernie’s back.  

A shout from Fletch below shattered the moment, and Bernie rolled away from Serena, pulling herself carefully to her feet and extending a hand to help Serena do the same.

“Guv!  Bernie!  You guys OK?”

“We’re fine, Fletch.   But we’re trapped.”  As she shouted back Serena was backing further down the hall, dragging a limping Bernie with her.

“Fire crew is on the way.”  yelled Fletch.  It was getting harder to hear him over the sound of the flames crackling as they moved further toward the back of the house.

“Did you get him?”  shouted Serena.

She was unable to hear Fletch’s reply.  

Reaching the back bedroom, she pushed the door shut behind them, forming a barrier between themselves and the flames.  She turned quickly to Bernie.

“What the hell was that?!”  she said.  Then noticing Bernie wincing, “Bernie, are you OK?”

“Fine, fine”, Bernie assured.  “I think it was a Molotov cocktail.  Can’t have been a proper explosive, there wasn’t enough of a blast.  Doesn’t make the fire less real, though.  Now let’s just get the hell out of here!”

Serena went over toward the window, surveying the area outside.

“There’s a ledge out here”, she said.  “It’s really narrow, but if it comes to it, we could probably try and get out on it.  Can’t really see a clear way down though, without dropping.”

“Show me!” said Bernie.  Serena moved aside, giving Bernie room to limp over and lean out of the window.  As she did so, Serena caught sight of her back.  Patches of her jacket seemed to have melted into the shirt beneath, which was sticking in places to her back.

“My God!”  she exclaimed.  “Bernie - your back!”

“Bernie eased her head back in.

“Please don’t worry, it looks worse than it is”, she assured.  “I can hear sirens - I think the cavalry have finally arrived.”

From their position at the back of the house, they couldn’t see the activity as the various emergency vehicles screeched up outside the house, but they could hear the shouts from the different teams, Fletch’s voice rising above the others as he urgently reported their location to the fire crew.  As they waited by the window for the fire crew to deal with the blaze, Serena edged her hand toward Bernie’s, looking for reassurance.  As their fingers brushed, Bernie slid her fingers to link with Serena’s, and they clung on to each other, gripping firmly.

 

It wasn’t long before they heard the hiss of the fire hoses in the hallway, and the door opened to reveal a couple of firemen.  They were briefly checked over on site, before being forced to relinquish their grip on each others hand, to be led out, Serena first, and Bernie limping behind.  They made their way through the charred and smoky hallway, each supported by one of the rescuing firemen.  

“Go steady along here.  The fire doesn’t seem to have burned long or hot enough to cause much in the way of structural damage, but you can never be too careful.” warned the first fireman.  “You’ll be fine when you reach the stairs, they’re completely sound.”

 

After exiting the house without further incident, each was escorted to a separate ambulance.  Serena had been fully checked over and pronounced fit, and was currently sat in the back of her ambulance.  She was trying to shake the blanket off from around her shoulders and get up, but was being prevented from doing so by Di Lucca and Fletch fussing around her.

“I’m absolutely fine!” she insisted again.  “The worst I got was a bump on the floor when the fire bomb exploded!  No damage at all, apart from a slightly sore backside!”  

Di Lucca sniggered, and Serena glared at him.

“I just can’t believe we were so close, but didn’t get him!”

Fletch looked a little sheepish.

“The bastard ran out the front before I made it through from the back.  Shot straight off - the patrol cars would’ve only missed him by seconds.”

“So he could still be in the area?” asked Serena, urgently.

“We’ve got men out there, and roadblocks going up as we speak.  We’re doing all we can, Guv!” assured Di Lucca.

“I know.” Serena sighed.  “Anyone checked on Bernie Wolfe?”

Di Lucca and Fletch looked at each other.  Di Lucca shook his head as Fletch shrugged.

“Well, I’m fine, but she was injured.  I’m going over!” said Serena, holding up her hand as Fletch moved to stop her.  “No!”  she said.  “I allowed her to come into the house, when I should have made her wait outside.  It’s my fault she’s hurt, so you’re not going to stop me going to see her now.”

Serena pushed through Fletch and Di Lucca, marching determinedly across to the other ambulance.  Rounding the side, she looked into the back, where she saw a topless Bernie, sitting hunched over, clutching a blanket to her chest as a paramedic applied a balm to her back.  Serena stopped abruptly in her tracks, words frozen in her throat as she looked at the strip of flawless naked skin exposed along Bernie’s side, which gave way to the thick layer of white cream covering her back.

Serena quickly walked around, crouching in front of Bernie, and grabbing hold of one of her hands.

“You should have told me!”  she said.  “You should have said how badly hurt you were!”

Bernie opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the perky young paramedic treating her.

“Don’t worry, it looks worse than it is.  Mostly first degree burns.  A few areas with second.  There’s a lot to be said for flame retardant fabric treatment!  Most of the burns shouldn’t even scar.  Doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt like a bitch, though!  Mind you, wait til you see her leg!” she said cheerfully.

Bernie turned her head, looking annoyed.

“Does patient confidentiality not apply to paramedics?!” she asked, dryly.

“Oops, my bad!” replied the paramedic, unabashed.  “I thought you two were… you know.  Together!”

Bernie’s eyes snapped back to Serena’s, noting the blush rising on her cheeks.  Serena spoke without breaking the eye contact.

“That’s a bit of a leap.  We were together in there”, she indicated toward the house, “but beyond that, I have no idea what you were thinking!”

“Oh well.  And I usually have such a good sixth sense about these things.  Sorry about that!” said the paramedic, not seeming sorry in the least.

“Look, could you give us a moment?” asked Bernie.

“I’ve just finished your back anyway” replied the paramedic, removing her gloves and jumping out of the ambulance.  “Just give me a shout when you’re ready for me to take you in!”  and she walked off, her eyes firmly fixed on the group of firemen stood near their engine.

When she was assured of their privacy, Serena brushed her thumb gently across Bernie’s knuckles.

“So, how bad is it?” she asked.

“Well, as Miss Loose-Lips said, my back will be fine.  But I may have broken my ankle when I hit the floor.  It’s a bit black and swollen.  Still, an x-ray will determine the situation, and I’ll be back on my feet in no time!”

Serena dropped her head.

“I’m really sorry.  I shouldn’t have let you…”

Bernie interrupted.

“Don’t blame yourself, Serena.  It’s not your fault.  You couldn’t have stopped me from going in!”

Serena tensed at the sound of her name upon Bernie’s lips.  It was the first time Bernie had called her anything other than DI Campbell - she hadn’t even realised that Bernie knew her first name.  The sound of her name spilling from Bernie’s lips was like music, quickening her heartbeat and triggering a swell of emotion.  She slowly lifted her gaze until it met Bernie’s once again.  Bernie looked pale and drawn, pain etching lines around her eyes and mouth.  Despite this, Serena thought that she had never seen a more beautiful woman.  Bernie’s eyes were warm as she held Serena’s gaze, her mouth quirked in a gentle smile.  Bernie’s fingers tightened reflexively on Serena’s, and she shifted forward a fraction, the movement caused her blanket to slip lower at the sides.  Serena was helpless to prevent her eyes from following the motion, greedily devouring the extra inches of skin revealed.  All at once, she recalled the feeling of Bernie’s body pressed against her own on the floor.  A flash of desire flared inside her, and she felt her body tighten at the remembered sensation.  What on earth was wrong with her?  Clearly the stress of the situation had gotten to her, and caused her brain to misfire.  She barely knew Bernie, and how embarrassing would it be if Bernie ever found out her errant thoughts?  She might never speak to her again.  And that, Serena suddenly realised, was something she couldn’t bear to contemplate.  Whatever the reason, she was inexplicably drawn to Bernie, and she wanted to carve room for her in her life.  They were both professional women, in demanding jobs, fighting against male prejudice as well as crime.  And they seemed to click somehow when work had thrown them together.   Many good friendships had been built on less.  So friends.  Yes, with luck, that’s what they would be.

Serena released Bernie’s hand.

“Your blanket”, she gestured.  “Don’t get cold.” she finished lamely.

Bernie glanced down, and gathered the blanket closer, pulling it further around her body.

“Yes.  Quite.  Sorry!”  she said, embarrassed.  “Time to get the paramedic back, I think.”

“Probably”, agreed Serena.  “Will you let me know?  How you are, I mean?”

Bernie looked surprised.

“Um, okay.  Yes!”

“Right.  Good.”  Serena stood up, briskly.  “Well, take care then, Ms Wolfe!”

“You too!”  Bernie called after her, as Serena strode off back toward her team.

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	3. Chapter 3

In the aftermath of the fire, Serena found her thoughts increasingly drawn to Bernie Wolfe.  She couldn't eradicate the recollection of the feel of Bernie's body pressed against hers, her breath tickling her skin.  She could feel the softness of Bernie’s breasts, crushed against her own, Bernie’s muscled leg pushed up hard between her own, the curve of Bernie’s hips beneath her hands.  Work helped to keep the thoughts at bay, but the hardest times were when she was lying in bed alone at night.  That was when the memories were so strong, she could almost believe Bernie was there with her, causing her skin to hum, her nipples to tighten and a rush of wet heat between her legs.  She fought hard against her reactions, refusing to accede to her body’s demands and give herself any relief.  She was still adamant that all she wanted from Bernie was her friendship, and any other feelings were merely the result of their shared trauma.

Serena had heard that Bernie was doing well, although she was disappointed that the message had come through Fletch, and not to her directly.  It had taken half a day of bad mood before she had finally realised that, short of calling through to the CID, Bernie had no way to contact her directly, as they had never exchanged personal numbers.  As such, Bernie had fulfilled her request in the best way she could. Serena often thought about visiting Bernie - just to see how she was doing.  She knew she could locate her address through her file, she just wasn’t sure how appropriate - or welcome - it would be.  Thus both her confused thoughts and her constantly changing mind, coupled with the heavy workload, meant that she never followed through.

 

It was all but certain that the break in and fire were caused by the same person who was responsible for the other robberies.  The Winslades had confirmed that some items of jewellery and other valuables were missing, and the SOCO who had gone through the house after it was deemed safe had found evidence of tampering on the safe at the back of the house, together with a further quantity of valuables which had apparently been abandoned in the thief’s rush to escape.  It seemed clear that the motive was indeed robbery, and the MO was sufficiently similar to the recent spate of similar crimes to have been added to the ever increasing case file. 

Days quickly became a week, and then two.  Another crime was committed, a robbery which ended in another fire, and this time, manslaughter.  And then, the thief upped the ante, and successfully hit a politically driven fund raising dinner party, swiftly followed by a high society charity auction, at which he left another body.  He was clearly expanding his comfort zone, and widening his targets, operating in higher and higher risk scenarios.  

Serena’s working days became longer, and all thoughts of a social life were rapidly pushed to the back of her mind.  The brass were starting to come down hard on the team, demanding a resolution to this ongoing crime spree, and pushing Serena to make an arrest.  Which was all well and bloody good, except this bastard was particularly good at taking forensic countermeasures, and so far they hadn’t managed to collect a shred of DNA evidence.  The increasing violence of the crimes might point to a particular type of personality, but the underlying motive itself - seemingly robbery - did little to point to a specific individual.  Serena had her people combing the streets, and analysts on double time scouring all media sources for potential targets of both people and events.

 

It was almost a month later, when, exhausted through weeks of insufficient sleep and jittery on excessive caffeine, eyes struggling to focus as she reviewed the crime scene evidence from each of the attacks yet again, Serena growled without looking up at the figure who approached her desk, clearing their throat politely.

“What?!” she snapped, eyes not leaving the file in front of her.

“Hi”, said a quiet voice.  “I just thought I'd stop in and see how you were doing.  You're obviously busy, I'll catch you another time.”  Bernie turned to leave.

At the sound of Bernie’s voice, Serena’s head snapped up, her features softening and a warmth adding a gleam to her eyes.

“Bernie! No!  Wait!  Please?”

Bernie turned back toward Serena, a questioning look on her face.

“It’s just”, Serena began, “Well, it’s crazy here at the moment.  But I thought maybe, I mean, if you’re free later, that is, I was wondering if I could buy you a drink?  You know, to say thank you.  For saving my life.”

Bernie’s face creased into a grin.

“That sounds wonderful!” she admitted.

Serena visibly relaxed at Bernie’s words, leaning back in her chair.

“I’ll plan to get out of here by 7.30,” she said, smiling back at Bernie.  “Meet you in the pub on the corner of the road?”

“I’ll be there.” promised Bernie.  She moved closer to Serena’s desk, grabbing a pen and Serena’s notepad.  Bernie leaned over, scribbling on to the pad.  Serena leaned in also, to see what Bernie was writing.

“My number”, explained Bernie, looking up.  “Just in case.”

Their faces were mere inches apart, and for a moment, breath caught and eyes locked together, both women remained frozen in position.

“Thanks” breathed Serena finally, moving back and breaking their close proximity.  She caught her lower lip briefly in her teeth, composing herself.  

“See you then.”

Bernie straightened, giving Serena one last pleased grin, before turning and leaving the building.

 

Serena spent the rest of the afternoon in a war between her professionalism, and anticipation of her meeting with Bernie later.  Her concentration on the case was giving way to mental images of sitting down with Bernie in a social setting, just the two of them, sharing personal thoughts, and had her stomach knotting with nerves.  She didn’t even feel this way before a normal first date - she had always been of the opinion that it was easy to find a polite way to up and leave if things didn’t work out.  Surely that could also be applied to this meeting.  She had plenty of reasons that she might need to leave - the case for a start.  Bernie would understand better than many the demands such a case put on her.  It would be easy to make an exit if they didn’t fall into comfortable conversation.  Except, she knew that it wouldn’t.  Because whilst dates were fine, and there was always the hope they’d work out well, there was no prior investment in them.  They would either work out or they wouldn’t.  No harm, no foul.  It wasn’t that Serena didn’t like dates, or sex, or the companionship of a relationship.  It just wasn’t something that she actively sought.  Goodness knows, enough of her previous relationships had been destroyed by the demands of the job, and with her idiot ex husband darkening the recesses of her memory, sometimes going through it all just seemed more hassle than it was worth.  Drinks with Bernie, however, were an altogether different prospect.  Serena felt that she was already invested in developing a friendship with Bernie, and the idea that her wishes may not come to fruition was bewilderingly painful.  Serena already felt sure that she couldn’t be as dismissive about walking away as she would if it were a date.  It would all be rather amusingly ironic, if it weren’t her own emotions which were getting all tied up in knots.  She needed to pull herself together, and adopt her usual attitude of que sera, sera. Oh, if only she could…

 

At 7.15, Serena headed into the bathroom, redoing her hair and applying a layer of lipstick.  She took a long look at herself in the mirror, noting the dark circles beneath her eyes, and the exhaustion deepening the lines on her pallid face.  She looked dreadful, just what she wanted, when she was about to meet the perpetually flawless Bernie Wolfe.  Just as well she  _ wasn’t _ heading off on a date, she thought derisively, before washing her hands and heading back to her desk to collect her coat.  She sent off a quick text to the number Bernie had left in her notepad, confirming that she’d be leaving in a few minutes and that she’d see Bernie there.  She shrugged on her coat, giving her desk a last cursory tidy, before squaring her shoulders and heading off for the door.

 

Bernie was waiting for Serena in the pub.  In fact, she had arrived half an hour early, anticipation driving her to be ready and unable to wait a moment longer before heading out.  She had chosen a small table tucked in the corner with a good view of the door, so she could watch for Serena’s arrival, although it was sufficiently out of the way that there shouldn’t be too much foot traffic passing to and from the bar.  She had been sitting blissfully daydreaming about their upcoming meeting, and the prospect of spending time with Serena in general.  She had already finished her first glass of wine, in an attempt to slow her racing pulse, the product of both expectancy and fantasy.

When Serena finally walked through the door, Bernie quickly put down the beer mat she had been fiddling with, and stood, lifting her hand in a half wave.  Serena smiled as she spotted Bernie, and wove her way through the tables until she reached her.

“I’m glad you made it!” said Bernie.  “What can I get you to drink?”

“A large Shiraz would be perfect!” said Serena, exhaling heavily in an attempt to calm her nerves.

Bernie headed off to the bar, returning with two large glasses of wine.  She slid into the seat opposite Serena, handing off the Shiraz to her.

“Here you go!” she said.

“Mmm, perfect, thank you.  So, how are you?” asked Serena, wrapping both hands around her wine glass nervously.  “Fletch has been giving me bare bones updates, but it’s nice to hear it from you?”

“I’m pretty good actually.” admitted Bernie.  “I had a rough couple of weeks, but I’m very much on the mend now.  I expect Fletch told you the ankle wasn’t broken, only sprained.  Most of my back is healed now, and the stiffness is barely noticeable.”

“I’m really glad.” offered Serena with a shy smile.  “I’ve thought about you, you know.  How you were doing, I mean.  I thought about maybe visiting you…”

“That would have been nice!” said Bernie.

“Yes.  It would”, Serena agreed.  “But it’s this case.  It’s just all been so busy.  And now, here we are, weeks later, and I barely noticed the time passing!”

Bernie hmm’d sympathetically.

“Are you back to work?”  asked Serena.

“Light duties,” said Bernie.  “I’ve done a couple of evenings covering clubs.  You know, nothing taxing.  Not much in the way of personal security.  I thought I might ease back in to getting trapped in burning buildings!”

Serena was helpless to prevent a giggle escaping at Bernie’s words.

“Quite!”  she replied.

“Actually, I’ve been asked to cover security at another event next week”, Bernie continued.  “It’s a huge fundraiser gala.  And I was thinking, it seems like the sort of event that might be at risk of being targeted.  Based on the targets of the last two robberies, that is?  I wondered what you thought, whether you agreed?”

Serena felt an irrational rush of fear at Bernie being put in danger again.

“And did you agree to cover the event?” she asked, carefully.

“As it happens, I didn’t.  I didn’t feel that it would be appropriate until I know I’m back to full fitness.  Rob Culver is heading up the team - you may have come across him before.  He’s good.”

“As good as you?” asked Serena, teasingly.

Bernie considered for a moment.  “Pretty much.” she said, seriously.   “I trust him.”

“That’s good.  We do have the event on our radar, and I agree with you, that it’s a high risk potential target.  I’ve already arranged to have a couple of cars nearby, but the organisers have been extremely reluctant to allow officers inside the event.  Idiots.  Do they not realise we’re only trying to protect them?”  Serena spoke with disgust.

“Aha!  Well, I actually may have a solution!” exclaimed Bernie.  “Albeit an imperfect one.”

“Go on.” said Serena, her interest piqued.

“Rob was given a few tickets when he agreed to cover the event, as a thank you.  He’s offered them to me.  I thought I might go along - as a guest, really, but if I’m there, I’ll naturally be keeping an eye out for anything untoward.  That still leaves a couple of  spare tickets.  If you wanted them for any of your team to get a peek inside… Or maybe, you know, you might want to go yourself?  To keep an eye on things, of course?”  Bernie lowered her head slightly as she spoke, peering up at Serena through her fringe, uncertain about Serena’s reaction.

Serena’s hands shook a little as she imagined what it might be like to attend such an event socially, with Bernie at her side.  

“That’s a good idea.  And a, a kind offer.  If you’ve no other use for the tickets, then yes, I’d be glad to accept.  It does seem the perfect way to get eyes on the inside.”  Serena glanced downward.  “I think I’ll take Di Lucca…” she mused aloud, missing the flash of disappointment that flitted over Bernie’s face.

“Yes”, continued Serena more firmly.  “That’s what we’ll do.  It seems, Ms Wolfe, that we are going to the ball!”  she grinned delightedly, picking up her wine glass and clinking it against Bernie’s.

Bernie grinned back.  

“I’ll drop the tickets to you at work in the next couple of days.” she said.

Serena began to reply, but she had barely started before she was interrupted by the beep of her phone.  Picking it up and quickly reading the message, she frowned, closing her eyes wearily.

“Damn”.  She said.  “I’m so sorry, I’ve got to go.  Something has come up.”

“It’s ok.  I understand.” said Bernie.

“It, um, it has been nice to see you!” said Serena as she stood and collected her coat.  “Maybe, we could do this again?” she asked, clutching her coat to herself, nervously.

“I’d like that”  Bernie’s face creased into a warm smile.  “And I’ll see you at the gala.  I plan to arrive around 8pm.”

“Then I shall do the same.  Until then.”

“Yes, til then.” agreed Bernie as Serena turned to walk away.

As she reached the door, Serena cast a final look behind her at Bernie still sitting in the corner, their eyes locking for one last, long moment, before she pulled the door open and disappeared outside.

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	4. Chapter 4

The following week, Serena arrived at the event with DS Di Lucca at 8pm as planned.  She was surprised to see the number of people already there, milling around the large room with glasses of champagne, the buzz of multiple conversations and polite laughter.  She looked around the room, searching for the security team already in place.  As her eyes panned along the far wall, she stopped suddenly, doing a double take, stunned at what she saw before her.  There, across the room, but starting to make her way towards them, was Bernie Wolfe.  But a Bernie unlike any that Serena had seen or imagined before.  She had just assumed that Bernie would wear her customary garb of a tailored suit, despite not being officially on duty.  She couldn’t, however, have been more wrong.  Bernie was wearing a dark green evening dress, cut from a silky material which moulded to her body, the clean, graceful lines of her feminine curves, hitherto only hinted at under shirts and trousers, now lovingly embraced by the flowing fabric.  The dress was sleeveless, the low neckline was draped by a gathered scoop of fabric which continued over her shoulders and fell to her waist, exposing her back.  The skirt of the dress was slim, and slit up the left side to her mid thigh, so that with every step she took, Serena was treated to a flash of long, slender leg.  Her hair was scraped up into a chignon, with tendrils falling around her face, and the intricate necklace she wore glittered with diamonds, matched by a pair of drop earrings.  Serena could not drag her eyes away from Bernie as she made her way across the room, fighting a gasp at the subtly shifting fabric stroking Bernie’s breasts, hips and stomach, and the rhythmic exposure of the most perfect leg she could imagine.  She could feel her heartbeat accelerating, and a light sheen of sweat breaking out across her upper lip.  She knew she was overtly staring, but was utterly powerless to resist.  

Finally Bernie reached them.  

“Serena!  DS Di Lucca.  Good to see you.”

Raf greeted Bernie in return, but Serena couldn’t form words.  Of their own volition, her eyes had dropped to Bernie’s chest, fascinated with the highlights and shadowing within the sheen of the dress as it clung to her breasts.  Thankfully, Bernie mistook the reason for her interest, and put a hand up to touch her necklace.

“It's only paste, I'm afraid.  I’d never afford anything like this in real diamonds!  I just thought, while we're here, can't hurt to blend in and play flashy.  Keep our cover, as it were!”

“You on the job, then, Ms Wolfe?”  asked Raf

“In an unofficial capacity.  Just lending a hand.  These bastards are making my job a nightmare, I'm in, gratis, until you put them away for good.”

“Nice”, replied Raf, scanning around the room.  

Noticing his diverted attention, Bernie took the opportunity to examine Serena properly.

“You look beautiful tonight”, she said, allowing her gaze to roam down Serena's body, taking in her cap sleeved purple gown, fitted to the waist before flaring out into a wider, floor length skirt.  Mirroring Serena's earlier action, she paused briefly at Serena's low cut, v necked bodice, lips parting as she surveyed Serena’s enticing cleavage.  Serenas small hitch of breath made Bernie’s eyes snap back up to her face, and she felt a moment of panic that she may have inadvertently just allowed her attraction to cause the other woman discomfort.

“Right.  Better get to it!” she said, dragging her mind back to the task at hand.  “The official detail have split the room into quadrants, and have one man covering each.  I’m going to keep to the perimeter.  I’ll be checking in with everyone periodically.  Here’s hoping for a quiet one!”  and with a nod, a tight smile, and one last lingering look at Serena, Bernie turned away and headed back toward the far wall.

Serena took a deep breath, trying to think of anything but the sway of Bernie’s backside, and turned to Raf.

“Di Lucca, as Bernie’s on the perimeter, we’ll take the central areas.  Can you circulate around the North, I’ll do the South?  Eyes and ears open.  The security team know we’re here, and Bernie will make sure they give us a shout if they spot anything first.”

Raf gave a nod of agreement, and turned, tugging uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt.

“Oh, Raf?”  Serena stopped him.  “At least _try_ to pretend you belong here!”

“Yes, guv!” said Raf sheepishly, dropping his hand from his neck, and squaring his shoulders before heading off into the throng.

Serena turned and headed off to her own section of the crowd, smiling at people as she passed, and turning on her charm.  It wasn’t long before she had been integrated into a group of people discussing politics and the current economic status.  She nodded in agreement at various statements, and laughed at all the right jokes, but her eyes were constantly flicking around the room.  It was some considerable way into the evening before Serena stopped short, realising with horror that it wasn’t trouble her eyes were constantly searching for.  It was Bernie.

_________________________________

By the end of the party, Serena’s feet were aching, and she was feeling fed up.  She sank down onto a chair, watching the room slowly empty as the wealthy guests donned their coats and waited for their cars to be brought to the door.  She had decided to wait until the last guest had left, to see the evening through properly.  She had sent Di Lucca to get his coat and head out with the earlier leavers, with the brief to hang around outside and assist the security team there in making sure no one got attacked as they left.  He was going to head straight home from there, and they would catch up in the office the following day.

Not even a hint of trouble this evening.  She’d been so sure the party would be a target, the thief had been getting progressively bolder and more daring, as well as more deadly.  If he had had been able to get inside, and then somehow control the crowd tonight, the payoff would have been huge.  No doubt the high level of security had been enough to deter him.  Great on the one hand, but on the other, a whole evening on her feet, in some pretty ridiculous shoes, and not even a sip of alcohol to lubricate the experience.  She had been chatted up by a dozen boring old farts, too privileged and rarified to have a clue about the real world, and she’d had to bite her tongue, even after hearing some of the drivel they spouted about the way the world worked.  For a while there, she’d even felt a hint of understanding toward the thief, some of these idiots deserved to be hit where it hurt - ie their wallets.  But then she had caught herself, because however obnoxious, none of them deserved murder.

The other reason for feeling fed up, of course, was Bernie.  She had looked beyond stunning tonight.  Serena wished she could have stayed beside her tonight, looking at her in that dress, with those legs…  Just gazing until she’d had her fill.  They could have chatted as they walked around, scanning the crowd.  Maybe got to know each other a little bit better.  She was endlessly fascinated by Bernie, on each meeting she seemed to discover another facet of her, something else to surprise and tantalise.  Who would have thought, for example, that Bernie of the trousers and suits and cool efficiency, who fared so well in a profession mostly dominated by men, would be equally at home displaying such a soft and feminine side?  Serena so longed to understand her better.  But what possible reason would there have been to stay by Bernie’s side tonight?  It definitely wouldn’t have been an efficient allocation of resources to have done so.  No, there was no way things could have worked out differently.  Shifting restlessly, Serena wondered if there would ever be another time that she’d get to see Bernie dressed up so.

Serena’s train of thought was interrupted by a softly spoken “Hi!”, and the object of her musings was stood before her.  She jumped up from her seat, fighting to hide the pleasure of seeing Bernie from her face.

“Hi!  Bernie!  How are you?  I mean, it was great that it was a quiet evening, wasn’t it?”  Serena babbled, flustered.  

Bernie laughed in response.

“Yes, of course it was good that it was uneventful.  A long and tiring evening, though.  For nothing to have happened.”

“Really long!”  admitted Serena.  “And I’m so wired that I _know_ I’m not going to be getting any sleep any time soon either!”

“You’re not the only one.  I, um, don’t suppose you fancy stopping for a drink with me then, do you?”  asked Bernie, cautiously.

“Well, I’m certainly not going to a club - and where else would we be able to get a drink at this time of the night,” Serena checked her watch, and groaned, “or make that morning?!”

“We could stay here?” suggested Bernie.  “There’s a room, the hotel staff gave it to the security team for the night to use as a base.  I left my stuff there.  The team will be packing up and heading home in a moment, but we don’t have to give the key back until tomorrow.  So, if I could scare up a bottle of wine or something, we could use the room to just, sit.  You know, and talk for a bit.  If you’d like?  Or not.”

Serena’s throat had gone dry at the idea of being in a hotel room alone with Bernie.  She swallowed hard.

“If you can scare up that bottle, then I’m in.” she said.

\----------------------

As it turned out, it didn’t take Bernie long at all to get hold of wine.  And not just a single bottle, either.

“Oh, I have a good relationship with the hotel manager!” she explained, in response to Serena’s raised eyebrow.  “I’ve done a few security jobs for him before, and he said he’d be happy to send these our way in appreciation for jobs well done!”

“All I can say, is you must be _very_ good!” said Serena, appreciatively.

“Oh, I am!” assured Bernie, with a wink which sent a bolt of heat through Serena.

All at once, Serena realised that she was tired of fighting against these persistent and increasingly undeniable feelings of attraction.  True, no other female had ever affected her this way.   Of course she’d been friends with women before, even close friends, but never to the extent that innuendo or gentle flirting could turn her to jelly.  Never to the point where she couldn’t get them out of her mind.  Never to the point where she wanted to know every part of them.  And certainly never to the point where she had wondered how soft their lips might be pressed against her own, or what it might feel like to move her hand inside that split in Bernie’s dress and stroke up her thigh....

“Serena, are you ok?”  Bernie’s voice broke her from her reverie, and she blushed deeply, realising that Bernie had started toward the lifts, but had then halted, when Serena had not followed.

“Oh, sure, yes, fine, just a bit, you know, sluggish.  Long night.  Like you said!”

“Um, we don’t have to do this.  If you’ve changed your mind?”  Bernie asked, concerned.

Serena replied immediately.

“Oh, no, I definitely want to do this!  The wine - I’m really looking forward to a glass of wine!” she quickly qualified.

“Good,”  Bernie gave an enigmatic smile.  “Come on, then!”  and she turned again toward the lifts.

\---------------------------------

Bernie swiped the key card into the hotel door, and pushed it open.  The room was already occupied, several of the security team were still there, packing equipment away and grabbing bags.  It wasn’t a particularly large room, and it seemed crowded, so Serena stopped by the door.  Bernie, however, waded right in, acknowledging the men by name, and chatting briefly about the evening.  She put the bottles of wine on the bedside cabinet, and grabbed her own bag from where she’d stowed it in the corner, tossing it onto the bed.

“Those for us?!”  asked one of the men packing up.

“Not on your life!” answered Bernie.  “Those are DI Campbell’s!”

The men looked over to where Serena was standing, smiling and nodding in acknowledgement.  Serena smiled back.

“Right, that’s us done, we’re off now.  Do either of you need a lift?”

“No, we’re covered, thank you, Rob.”  said Bernie.  “You guys go and get some sleep!”

“Roger that!” said Rob, as the men headed out of the room, to a chorus of ‘Night, Bernie, see you arounds’, and ‘Nice to meet yous’ directed toward Serena.

And suddenly Serena and Bernie were alone.  In a hotel room.  With a bed.

Funny, thought Serena, surely this room should feel bigger without the security men in it, not smaller.  She stood, frozen, eyes locked on Bernie.

“Why don’t you come and have a seat?”  asked Bernie.  “I’ll open the wine.”

Serena walked slowly up to the bed, watching as Bernie reached out and snagged a bottle, unscrewing the cap.

“Damn!  I forgot to get glasses!”  exclaimed Bernie.  “I’ll be right back!”

“No!”  Serena’s reply was swift and forceful, and startled them both.  She didn’t want Bernie to leave, didn’t want to be left alone to think about her feelings. She gestured aimlessly with her hand.

“Um, we can make do, can’t we?”  she asked.

“Okay, sure.”  Bernie handed her the opened bottle.  

Serena lifted it to her lips and took a hefty swig, immediately passing it back to Bernie, who took a rather more delicate sip.

“Serena, aren’t you going to sit down?” asked Bernie.

Serena immediately sank onto the bed beside Bernie, feeling slightly foolish.  Bernie kicked her shoes off, her movement causing her skirt to gape.  She stretched out her legs and wriggled her toes, with an appreciative moan.

“Aaah!  That feels _so_ much better!  There’s nothing better than removing the instruments of torture at the end of a long evening.”  

Serena’s eyes snapped to Bernie’s feet, extended out in front of her.  She was helpless to prevent her eyes from tracking up Bernie’s ankles and along her slender calves, past her knees, finally coming to rest high on her thigh, at the point that the dress split ended.  She grabbed the wine from Bernie’s hand, closing her eyes and taking a deep swig.  There was no denying it any longer.  She wanted Bernie Wolfe.  It didn’t matter that she’d never imagined she would be attracted to another woman.  It didn’t matter that she didn’t really know what she was doing.  The fact was, she wanted Bernie.  Pure and simple.  She wanted to slide her hand along Bernie’s thigh and feel the muscles beneath.  She wanted to run her fingers through Bernie’s hair, and see if it felt as silky as it looked.  She wanted to run her hands over Bernie’s breasts, and explore their shape and weight, to see if Bernie liked her breasts being touched in the same ways that Serena did.  But most of all, she wanted to press her lips against Bernie’s, to discover if her lips were as soft as they appeared.

More dumbstruck than ever by her newfound self revelations, Serena sat awkwardly, eyes fixed on the carpet in front of her.  She didn’t have a clue what to say to Bernie.  She had no idea even if Bernie even thought of women in those terms, let alone herself.  Where she might have picked up signals from a man, she had ploughed through her interactions with Bernie, blithely blinkered to any less-than platonic signals.

They sat beside each other for a while, the silence stretching uncomfortably.

Finally, Bernie spoke.

“Hm, it seems so quiet in here after the gathering this evening.  Do you mind if I put some music on?”

“Um, no.  Not at all.”

Bernie stood up, leaning past Serena to flick the radio on, before resuming her seat.

“Ah, that’s better!” she said.  She threw her head back and closed her eyes, smiling as she listened to the upbeat tune coming from the radio.

“I love to dance.  I’ve never really understood evenings like this evening.  What’s the point in having a gathering, if you don’t dance?!”  She opened her eyes again, tilting her head to look at Serena.

“How about you?  Do you like dancing?”

Serena took in the long lines of Bernie’s exposed neck, her tongue feeling too thick for her mouth as she briefly imagined dragging it the length of Bernie’s throat.

“Er, yes, I do.” she swallowed hard as her imagination went wild as she imagined how that dress would have looked with Bernie’s body moving sinuously to music within it.

“But surely dancing wouldn’t have been on the cards tonight, even with music?” asked Serena, finally.

“You’re right, of course”, Bernie sighed.  “Although I wasn’t officially on duty.  I might have been able to sneak a quick turn in!”  she looked at Serena cheekily.  “Would you have danced with me?”

“I, um, well, I… er, I don’t, I mean, I haven’t... I don’t know!” she finished lamely, flustered by Bernie’s gentle teasing.

“I see.”  Bernie seemed slightly disappointed.  “But you do like to dance.”

“Yes.” said Serena, more firmly.

“So, how about now?”  suggested Bernie.

“What, here?”  asked Serena, incredulously.

“There’s nothing to stop us!”  Bernie shrugged her shoulders.  She stood, holding out a hand to Serena.

With shaking legs, Serena reached out, accepting Bernie’s hand, rising to her feet.  Reaching out to grasp Serena’s other hand too, Bernie waited until the presenter had finished speaking, and the next song started.  Then, seemingly happy with the reasonably fast tempo of the music, she began moving, pulling at Serena to join in.  Serena shifted uncomfortably on her feet for a few moments, watching as Bernie moved enthusiastically, although in a not entirely coordinated fashion.  She couldn’t help but smile at Bernie’s efforts, and was rewarded by a laugh in return.

“What?!  I said I _liked_ to dance, not that I was good at it!” said Bernie in mock affront.

“Hah, no, you’re doing great!” exclaimed Serena, and as she was slowly swept up in the moment, she threw self-consciousness to the wind, and began to dance herself.

One song gave way to another, and Serena’s aching feet were forgotten and she and Bernie laughed and threw themselves into their dance, pausing intermittently to swig at the wine.  

Inevitably, as the show wore on, the high tempo music gave way to a slower song.  For a moment, both women stood awkwardly, each giving the other a chance to react.  Then, Bernie reached out for Serena’s hand, drawing her slowly closer, allowing her time to escape.  When Serena didn’t pull away, Bernie slid her free arm around Serena’s hip, raising their clasped hands to rest near her shoulder, bodies a breath apart, but not quite touching.  Bernie began to slowly sway to the music, Serena unhesitatingly following her lead.  Their eyes were locked together in an endless gaze, their movements causing their bodies to periodically brush lightly against each other, until both women were left with quickening breath and parted lips.

The music ended, giving way to the presenters voice as he announced the end of the show.

Bernie and Serena stayed joined to each other in their loose grip, still swaying slightly.  They had not broken eye contact, and the tension between them was scorching.  With her lips quivering as if she wanted to say something, Bernie’s control finally broke and she closed the last of the gap between them, pressing her lips against Serena’s, one hand sliding up to the back of Serena’s neck to hold her in place.  Squeezing her eyes shut, Serena returned the kiss, savouring the pressure of Bernie’s lips upon her own as she reached out to clumsily grip Bernie’s arms.

After several long moments, Bernie pulled back, her hand sliding away from Serena’s neck and slipping down her arm.  Serena’s gaze remained locked upon Bernie’s lips, until, with a stunned look upon her face, she leaned in once more, recapturing Bernie’s lips in a further kiss.  Bernie moved to deepen the kiss, running her tongue along Serena’s upper lip, causing Serena to gasp and a convulsive tremor to pass through her body.

Misreading the shudder as revulsion and convinced that she had pushed Serena too far, Bernie sprang back, a stricken look upon her face.  She dragged her eyes upward to briefly meet Serena’s.

“Oh god!  I’m so sorry!” she muttered, before she turned and ran out of the room.

[](http://s1146.photobucket.com/user/Alielp/media/YOCWTSMH%20Chapter%204_zpsv9bt1yzt.jpg.html)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally a 5 chapter work, but the last chapter just got too long, so I've split in two.

Serena waited for over half an hour for Bernie to return.  After the initial shock of her abrupt departure had passed, Serena had rushed out into the hall, searching for her.  Bernie’s bag was still in the room, along with her shoes, therefore Serena knew she couldn’t have gone far and would have to come back.  So, she sat back on the edge of the bed and waited.

As she waited, her mind ran over and over the events of the evening.  Her initial confusion gradually gave way to a sinking fear.  It was her fault Bernie had run - it had to be. They’d had such a wonderful time, laughing, dancing, chatting.  Bernie must have realised Serena’s feelings, and in the heat of the moment, decided to kiss her accordingly. But then, as Serena had begun to reciprocate the kiss and show her desire, Bernie had pulled back.  She undoubtedly discovered she didn’t like it, that she wasn’t in fact at all attracted to Serena.  That’s why she apologised, because she had made such a huge mistake.  Serena was just embarrassing herself further by sitting here and waiting like some lovesick puppy dog.  Clearly Bernie didn’t want to be around her, and was just far too nice to walk up and tell her so.  Staying here was a mistake, and would only lead to further humiliation for both of them.

With her heart sunk into her stomach and hot tears burning the backs of her eyes, Serena finally grabbed her coat and bag and slipped out of the hotel, wandering blindly along several streets, before finally calling a taxi to take her home.

\--------------------

On arrival back home, Serena contemplated trying to get some rest.  There seemed little point in sinking into her bed for the couple of hours left before her alarm was due to go off, she knew for sure that sleep would be eluding her tonight.  Instead, she changed from her evening dress straight into work attire, and began pouring over the copy of her handwritten notes that she kept here, forcing herself to concentrate on the small details in an effort to drag her mind away from the pain of the evening.  There had been something niggling at the back of her mind about the aggression the thief had been displaying toward his victims.  Although there was seemingly no link at all between the victims, his attacks seemed somehow personal.  Sighing at her inability to see the pattern that she was sure was there, Serena’s thoughts drifted back once more to Bernie, and their friendship lost.  Clenching her teeth at the rush of anguish which once again consumed her, she snatched up her bag and keys, and mindful of the wine she had consumed such a short time ago, called a cab to take her into the office.

Being at work did help slightly.  As the rest of the team trickled in, and they all met to debrief their various activities pertaining to the case, the hustle and bustle allowed Serena to better direct her thoughts away from her loss.  She called DS Di Lucca over, suggesting they re-work through the evidence together for the day, arguing that two heads are better than one, but in reality needing the constant interaction with another person to aid her distraction.

It was mid afternoon when DC Fletcher came rushing into the incident room, out of breath and shouting.

“There’s been another one, guv!  In broad bloody daylight!”

“Fatalities?” asked Serena sharply, standing from her seat.

“No, but the victim is in critical condition.  Got some good news though.  Possible DNA evidence.  We might just finally have a lead on the bastard!” said Fletch, gleefully.

“Slow down, and from the top, Fletch, please.” said Serena.

“OK, well, he’s a corporate banker, right?  So he’s at home, about to head out, and he gets attacked.  I don’t know how, but it seems like he managed to get a swing at the fella, must’ve just refused to go down without a fight.  Anyway, he was wearing a ring, looks like it might’ve caught the thief on the cheekbone and made him bleed!  The banker got a right beating, though.  He’s being treated at the hospital now.”

“But he was able to give a statement?” asked Serena, excitedly.

“No, not exactly.  He was unconscious.  But here’s the thing.  His partner showed up to pick him up to view a new site they were looking to develop.  It’s not a regular thing, but they decided to carpool and do lunch afterwards.  The partner showed up at the tail end of the attack, caught the thief in the act, and made him scarper.  Likely it was thanks to him that his partner is still alive.  Probably would’ve been finished off if he hadn’t showed up when he did.  Oh, and it was the partner that told us about the punch and the cut on the thief’s face, otherwise we’d probably have assumed the blood at the scene was all the bankers.  We’ve got the forensic lot heading to the hospital to swab the ring, and SOCO clearing the scene!”

“Very nice work, DC Fletcher!” said Serena, approvingly.  “Has anyone taken the partner’s official statement yet?”

“He’s on his way in now, guv.” said Fletch.

“Di Lucca, will you partner Fletcher for the interview?” asked Serena.

“No problem.” responded Raf.

The remainder of the afternoon passed in blissfully thought numbing activity, as Serena first visited the scene of the latest crime, then the hospital to see the victim, and finally returned to the office to scour over the completed witness statement from the man’s partner.  Blood had been taken from the man’s ring, and the DNA analysis had been sent off for urgent review to establish if there was other blood than the victim’s there.  Now, Serena was left waiting for the victim to wake up and recount anything he remembered about the attack, and for the analysis to come back.

Unbidden, her thoughts returned again to Bernie.  She wondered how she was today, whether she too was struggling to forget the events of the previous evening.  Wondered if she was beating herself up for making such a mistake with Serena, or worse still, hating Serena for putting her in such an awkward position.  Wondered if there was any chance that a friendship could be salvaged from the wreckage of last night, whether she herself would even be able to put her feelings aside and be content with just being Bernie’s friend, if Bernie was willing.  She shook her head abruptly.  It was all too bewildering and raw.  And she couldn’t afford to be distracted right now, especially whilst waiting to see if they had received their first real break in the case.

\---------------------

It took 4 days for the DNA evidence to be processed, which was to Serena’s mind, a huge result.  The high profile nature of the crime had helped in pushing the results through faster than the usual 7-10 day turnaround.  There had been no further crimes in those 4 days, she assumed the thief was lying low, and must have been spooked by his close brush with discovery, and his subsequent inability to ensure that the scene was clear of trace evidence.  Unfortunately, the wait had afforded Serena far too many moments to think about Bernie.  She had, after that first day, hoped upon hope that Bernie might call or message her, and give her a chance to explain and apologise, but her phone had remained silent.  She had casually asked Fletch if he’d seen her out and about, but apparently just the previous day she had unexpectedly missed a gathering at which she had been expected, and no one had heard from her.

Di Lucca had noticed that she was out of sorts, and politely asked if everything was OK.  She had assured him it was.  No one besides she and Bernie had a clue what had happened after the gala, and no one needed to.

As the hours and days ticked by, Serena became more and more sure that she needed to speak to Bernie, to fully understand what had happened, and hopefully reach some form of resolution or understanding which would allow her a modicum of peace.  She promised herself that as soon as this case was closed, she would find the bravery to reach out.

When the confirmation finally arrived that the blood evidence on the victim’s ring belonged to a male other than the victim, there was an air of anticipation throughout the CID. As soon as the profile had been sent through from forensics, Serena initiated a database search to look for matches amongst known offenders.  The team were all hanging around the office on various pretences, all wanting to be present when, for better or worse, the final result was in.  Serena and Raf sat at Serena’s desk, making chit chat, eyes flickering back and forth to the computer screen.

In a sudden rush of movement, they both stood up from their seats, Raf whooping and punching the air, and Serena loudly proclaiming “We’ve got him!”

The rest of the team gathered around, as Serena pulled up and read from the record.

“DNA match for Isaac Mayfield, 32.  It’s an old record.  He’s got a few priors from when he was younger, let’s see...  Aha!  Petty theft and fencing stolen goods.  We’ve got nothing on him since then.  But a history of theft - this looks like our man!   I’ve got an address for him, let’s round up some uniforms and bring him in for questioning!”

The remainder of the afternoon and night passed in a flurry of activity.  Isaac Mayfield, sporting a partially healed yet still nasty cut along his cheekbone, had been apprehended at his registered address.  Serena, with DCI Griffin by her side, had prepared for an extremely long night of questioning when he arrived to the interview room.  Both she and Griffin had therefore been shocked at his arrogant demeanour as he calmly confirmed that he had indeed been responsible for each of the crimes in question, and that he felt his actions had been perfectly reasonable, because each of the victims had had it coming.  With the interview, really little more than an extended statement clarified by a few questions, terminated and Mr Mayfield formally arrested and remanded in custody, Serena had immediately begun to work through the huge pile of paperwork that the arrest had generated.  Stifling a yawn as she finally completed her last report, she pushed back her chair, and switched her computer off.  She had sent the rest of her team off hours ago, with instructions to let their hair down and blow off some steam to celebrate, before they became drawn into a new case.  Glancing at her watch, she decided to take some of her own advice, and head off home to get some rest.

Her stomach grumbled as she pushed the door of her house open.  This was the problem with such an antisocial job - the distinct lack of takeaways serving food at 8am.  She pulled the fridge open, grimacing in disgust at the bare shelves.  Opening the freezer door, she glanced at the contents - there were a few meals left there.  She was a reasonable cook, and whilst there was little joy in cooking for one, Serena always tried to cook up at least one large batch of food whenever she had a day off to restock the freezer for when she was embroiled in a case.  Reaching in to pull a meal out, she hesitated, before withdrawing her hand and resolutely shutting the freezer once more.  No, whatever her stomach might think, it wasn’t food she craved.  And drinking on an empty stomach might just have the edge in giving her a few hours of dreamless sleep…  She reached into a cupboard, pulling out a bottle of Shiraz and opening it.  She was about to put the bottle to her lips, but a sudden flashback of sharing wine straight from the bottle in the hotel room with Bernie stayed her action, and with an annoyed exhalation, she found a wine glass and poured a generous measure into that instead.

Bernie.  

Serena took several large swallows of her wine.  She had said she would try and get a resolution once the case was closed.  And now it was.  So, it was time to make contact. She drained the rest of her glass in one go, immediately topping it back up, and eyeing her freshly filled glass.  Perhaps she should just finish that first.  Or better still, the bottle.  After that, she really ought to get some sleep, to try and make sure she doesn’t say anything stupid and make things worse.  If they could even  _ get _ worse.  Morosely, she picked up the glass, taking another good gulp.  It was hardly like Bernie was waiting to hear from her, so there’s no rush to make contact, she told herself.  She could give herself time to decompress first.    She carried the glass and bottle over to her kitchen table, sinking down in one of the chairs, playing through various scenarios that could arise from her contacting Bernie.  None of them ended well.  She swiftly worked her way through the remainder of the bottle before, tipsy and exhausted, she finally collapsed into her bed.

\--------------------

Serena awoke mid afternoon, a slight headache nagging at her temples, but generally feeling better than she had done for days.  Heading down to the kitchen to make coffee, she decided, it was now or never.  She pulled out her phone, opening a text dialogue.  

She stared at the phone for several minutes, trying to decide what to say.  In the end, she decided to keep it simple.

‘Bernie. I hope you’re OK. I am SO sorry about the other night. Serena.’

So that was it.  The deed had been done.  All she could do now was hope, hope that there was some small part of Bernie who might still be interested in a friendship at least.

When her mobile pinged just a few minutes later, Serena nearly jumped through the roof.  She picked her phone up from the table with shaking hands, and checked the screen.  A new message from Bernie Wolfe!  Taking a deep breath to prepare for what was to come, she swiped across the screen, opening the text.

‘You have NOTHING to be sorry about. It was all me. I should be begging your forgiveness. B”

Serena frowned at the screen.  What could Bernie be sorry for?  For running out instead of being honest about her lack of attraction?  Hardly something to beg forgiveness for - you can’t help who you are or are not attracted to, and letting someone down isn’t always an easy conversation to have, especially if it’s a friend, and after you’ve been drinking.  But, at least she hadn’t said that she never wanted to hear from Serena again.  Clinging to this thought, Serena responded.  

‘You’re forgiven, although I’m not sure what for! Wanted to tell you we finally solved the case! Thought you’d want to know. S”

The reply came quickly.

“Yes, I saw in this morning’s papers. Congratulations! You must be feeling great.”

Great?  Hah.  Perhaps if her personal life wasn’t such a bewildering tangle.  Gathering her courage, Serena began to type.

‘You were quite involved in it too. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to share all the details? Perhaps over a coffee?’

She sat, mobile in hand, staring at the screen.  Her leg jiggled impatiently as she awaited Bernie’s reply.  Minutes passed, and still the screen remained blank.   Eventually, she threw the phone onto the sofa, despair weighing her down.  Yet again, she had made an error when it came to Bernie.  Pushed too hard, pushed her away.  Perhaps it was time she faced facts and moved on, tried to forget that Bernie Wolfe existed.  She got up wearily, heading into the kitchen and pulling out another bottle of Shiraz.  She gave the glass she’d used last night the most cursory of rinses - it was only her, after all.  Alone, as ever.  She filled her glass, carrying it and the bottle back into the living room, putting the bottle on the coffee table and slumping on the sofa, glass still in hand.  She scooped up her phone with her free hand, briefly debating just deleting Bernie’s number from her phone and being done with it.  The sudden ping from the phone startled her so much that she sloshed the wine down her front.

New message: Bernie Wolfe.  Serena quickly swiped the message open.

‘That would be nice.  When?’

Serena re-read the brief text several times, almost disbelievingly.  So, all was not lost.  Wary of pushing too hard again, but tired of existing in an emotional maelstrom, she shrugged her shoulders.

‘I’m free now.’  She settled in for a wait, but this time, her phone pinged almost immediately.

‘Caught up at the moment. Free from around 7pm. Any good?’

‘Yes, that’s fine.’

‘Where?’

‘Wherever you prefer. Can do pub, or you’re welcome to mine. Could get takeout?’

As Serena pressed send on this last text, her heart was in her throat.  If there was an apple cart to be upset, this was the one which would do the job, she was sure.  She was astonished when moments later, she received a reply.

‘Sounds great. Send me your address. See you then.’

_ Bernie Wolfe was coming to her house _ .

[](http://s1146.photobucket.com/user/Alielp/media/YOCWTSMH%20Chapter%205%20final_zpsrd86yebi.jpg.html)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of Bernie. I consider this chapter the equivalent of canon Kiev!!!


	6. Chapter 6

By the time 7pm arrived, Serena was a mess of nerves.  She had spent the afternoon cleaning, tidying, and trying to make herself look less worn down and exhausted.  She was terrified that she’d overdone the makeup, and had made it obvious that she was trying too hard.  She felt equal parts excitement and apprehension at seeing Bernie, her emotions at war between her errant heart and her instincts for self preservation; for her own sanity, and for better or worse, she needed to force a resolution.

When the bell rang announcing Bernie’s arrival, Serena slowly counted to five before opening the door.  Bernie stood in the doorway, two large bags in her hands, looking almost as wary as Serena felt.  Serena’s heart skipped several beats as she flicked her eyes greedily over Bernie’s face, feeling a rush of warmth suffuse her, pinking her cheeks appealingly.

Bernie, inwardly squirming under the scrutiny, tentatively held out one of the bags to Serena.

“Peace offering?” She said.

Serena took the bag and peered inside.  She lifted out one of the two wine bottles she found there, glancing at the label.

“Shiraz!” She exclaimed.  “You remembered!  Thank you.”

She stood aside, and gestured for Bernie to come in.  As Bernie stepped over the threshold, she waved the other bag in Serena’s general direction.

“I took a gamble and brought some take away.  It's Chinese.  But if you don't like Chinese, I can go and get something else, it's no bother!”

“Chinese is great, thank you,” said Serena, smiling,  “it's really kind of you to have bought dinner, you didn't need to.”

Closing the door behind Bernie, Serena took the bag of take away from her outstretched hand and led the way into the kitchen.  Avoiding further eye contact, she busied herself with collecting plates, glasses and napkins, and laying them carefully on the table.  Bernie stood awkwardly in the kitchen doorway, wringing her hands, and occasionally shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“Anything I can do to help?” she asked.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it all covered.” replied Serena.

“Your home, it’s lovely.” said Bernie, casting her eyes around the kitchen, then turning her head to take in more of the hall.  

Her diverted attention gave Serena the opportunity to surreptitiously study her, eyes sweeping down from her flushed cheeks, past her jaw and along the tendons cording her neck, and over her fitted black shirt and the incredible length of her legs encased in skinny jeans.  As Bernie turned her attention back from the hall, Serena’s eyes snapped back down to the table, afraid of being caught out.

“Thank you.  Would you like to sit down?” she offered, nodding toward the seat on the opposite side of the table.

Bernie hmm’d her consent, and lowered herself into the indicated chair.

“So, how have you been?” asked Serena, opening containers and laying them out on the table with the plates.

“Oh, um, fine.  Yes, fine.  Usual, really.  You?”

“Not bad.”  Serena offered a brief tight smile, eyes locking with Bernie’s.  A long and uncomfortable moment passed before she spoke again.

“Come on, tuck in!” she gestured at the food laid out between them.

Both women served themselves food, and began to eat in awkward silence.

With nerves stretched to their limits, Serena was desperate to try and reclaim some form of comfortable camaraderie instead of this stilted and fraught atmosphere.  The case - her pretext for contacting Bernie - seemed like the perfect solution.  Grasping at it with both hands, she forced her shoulders to relax, and dived in.

“The highlight of my week was, of course,  finally catching that son of a bitch.  It was nice to get the brass off my back too.  Helps a girl to sleep at night when she doesn’t have to fear for her job!” she laughed lightly.

Bernie gratefully followed Serena’s lead.

“I can quite imagine it would!  So, how did you solve it?  The papers were quite vague about the details.”

Serena sighed.  “The case of course still has to go through the courts, so can I rely on your discretion?”

“As if you even have to ask!” retorted Bernie.

Serena laughed again.  “I know, but I had to regardless!  In the end, it boiled down to blood evidence, luck, and a victim who wasn’t afraid to try and fight back.  We got him on a DNA match, after his most recent victim managed to injure him.  He was such a clever bastard, though.  I dread to think how long it might have gone on without that stroke of luck.  Thank god it’s finally over.”

“Indeed!” replied Bernie, serving herself some more chow mein.  “But who was he?”

“I could give you his name - but really, it’s irrelevant.  He was a nobody.  The illegitimate son of a local politician. His mother was disowned by his father, when she told him she was pregnant.  He spent his childhood in poverty, listening to his mother moan and vent her hatred for his father and other people of wealth.  Basically, he grew up thinking that the world owed him something, that he had the right to take back for himself some of the wealth that his mother drummed into him that he was denied.  I guess, listening to such hatred all through his formative years, it’s not a big surprise that he didn’t end up the most adjusted of adults.” mused Serena.

Bernie finished her mouthful and dabbed at her lips with a napkin.

“Plenty of people have difficult childhoods, Serena.  Not all of them grow up to be serial offenders and murderers.”

“I know, I know.”  Serena stared contemplatively down at her now empty plate.  “It’s just that, regardless of how long I do this job, I still don’t really understand what drives one person to commit such acts, where another would never dream of it.”

“No doubt in court, you’ll have some expert or another prepared to support a claim of diminished capacity by virtue of genetic makeup, or some such nonsense.  At the end of the day, Serena, I don’t think there’s any great mystery.  Some people are just, wired bad!”

“Perhaps.”  Serena appeared lost in thought for a moment, before visibly shaking herself back to the present.  “Would you like some more?” she indicated the remainder of the food laid out in front of them.

“Oh, no, no!  I’m completely full!” said Bernie, patting her stomach.

“Ok, good!”  Serena rose from the table, gathering the remains of the meal together and relocating it to the kitchen counter.  Bernie stacked their plates, handing them off to Serena to place on the side.  Serena refilled both their glasses, before sinking back into her chair.  She took a big gulp of her wine, replacing it carefully back on the table before speaking.

“There was something else I wanted to talk to you about.” she said, forcing herself to meet Bernie’s eyes.  “What happened the other night…” she tailed off, gaze dropping to the table.

Bernie shifted uncomfortably in her chair, eyes focussed on her twisting fingers.

“Yes.  I’m so sorry, Serena.  I didn’t mean to… I mean, I shouldn’t have… I’m, I’m _sorry_.”

“No, Bernie.   _I’m_ sorry.  I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.  I didn’t mean to put that on you!” Serena’s cheeks pinked as she confessed.

Bernie’s eyes snapped up in astonishment.

“S-Serena!  What you do mean, you didn’t mean to put that on me?!”

Serena blushed a deeper shade of red.

“I mean the fact that I was so attracted to you!  I _know_ you only kissed me because I couldn’t hide it any longer, and then…”

“NO!  No, Serena,” Bernie interrupted.  “I kissed you because... I wanted to.  Beyond that, I wasn’t really thinking.”

Serena’s brows drew together in confusion, as she finally lifted her gaze to meet Bernie’s.

“Then, why did you - “

“Run?!” asked Bernie, her lips curling self deprecatingly.  “Because I’m a coward!  I thought I’d upset you, done the wrong thing.  Ruined everything!”

“I don’t understand!” said Serena, helplessly.  “You kissed me!  But as soon as I kissed you back, you went!”

Bernie gave a harsh laugh, and looked away again.

“I don’t think there’s anything to understand, Serena.  I’m rubbish.  I was afraid.  I like you, I enjoy your company.  I wondered for a bit if there might be a chance for something more.  I asked Fletch about you, you know.  Oh, don’t worry!” she said, at Serena’s suddenly startled gaze.  “He didn’t say much.  I pushed a bit - well, a lot, I suppose - and he eventually admitted that you were single, but that you’d had a few short term relationships.   _With men_.  At that point I realised that anything more was off the cards, but I decided that it would be better to have you as a friend than not have you at all.  In the hotel room, when I kissed you, I thought I’d gone and ruined it.  So I did what I do best.  I ran.  I’m sorry.”

“ _Please_ stop apologising, Bernie!  I just want to know what’s going on!  I hate this confusion!  Are you saying that you’re _attracted_ to me?”

“Oh, god, yes, Serena!  I am very, very attracted to you.  Is, um, is that OK?”

“I think so.  Yes!  I know so.  It’s just, I’ve never been more than friends with a woman before in my life, and it’s scaring the hell out of me.  This is all new to me.  God, I don’t even know what _this_ is.  Is it even real?”

Bernie looked down at her hands.

“It is for me.” she admitted, quietly.

Serena gave a strangled exhalation.

Bernie braved a glance, looking up at Serena through her fringe.  She was confused by the expression she saw there, Serena looked almost relieved, lifted, which was far from the look of hurt and anger she had expected to see.

“I thought, I thought you might have just been humouring me.  Because you had realised how I felt!” Serena confessed.

“You’re kidding, right?!” asked Bernie, incredulously.  “Personally, I would have considered that going a little bit above and beyond!”

Serena chuckled a little at Bernie’s words, before her expression sobered again.

“I have to be honest, I wasn’t joking about this being new to me.  I’ve never even been _attracted_ to a woman before.  And you’re so… put together.  You’re always so smart, and elegant, and so _controlled_.  And look at me!” she waved a hand down her chest in a self deprecating manner.  “I live my life with too little sleep, too much stress, and I feel like I’m a constant mess!  And all this time, I didn’t even know that you were attracted to women.  As far as I was aware, you were a died in the wool heterosexual!”

“Like you, you mean?!” asked Bernie teasingly.  “Well, as it so happens, I’m not.  I _am_ attracted to women, although currently I should say _woman_ .  Because right now, I am extremely attracted to you.  And as for everything else you said, you’re wrong.  You are beautiful, Serena.  When I look at you, I don’t see a mess.  I see an intelligent, confident, brave, and incredibly sexy woman.  Being around you makes _me_ feel incredible.”

Bernie paused for a moment, sincerity shining from her eyes.  She reached across before continuing, grasping the back of Serena’s hand and squeezing gently.

“I _do_ understand, though,  how confusing this must be for you.  The last thing I want is to push you into something you don’t feel ready for.  I’ll give you all the time and space you need to figure out what you want.  I’m not going anywhere.  I’ll still be here, when you’ve decided.”

Serena turned her hand in Bernie’s to join their hands properly.

“What if I don’t want time or space?”

“I want you to be sure, Serena.  For both of us.  Because I like you - I more than like you.  I think you might well have the power to break my heart.”

Without releasing her grip on Bernie’s hand, Serena rose from the table and moved to Bernie’s side, tugging at her hand gently until Bernie stood too.  Serena snagged Bernie’s other hand also, brushing her thumb gently across her knuckles and stepping in closer until they were nearly touching.

“I don’t want to break your heart, Bernie.  And I _am_ sure.  I’ve spent weeks, struggling with the idea of being attracted to you.  But I’ve now realised that there’s nothing to struggle _against_ .  Your gender, my gender, they don’t matter at all.  All that matters is that I want _you_ , and all that you are.  I just.  Want.  You!”

And with that, Serena leaned forward, eyes fluttering shut as she captured Bernie’s lips with her own.  Bernie held herself rigid for a few seconds, before finally relaxing into the kiss.  Serena slid one hand around Bernie’s back, lifting the other to Bernie’s neck, lightly anchoring her in place.  As if accepting this as permission, Bernie deepened the kiss, bringing her own arms around Serena, gripping her tightly as she pulled Serena closer still, hands stroking feverishly as her tongue sought entry into Serena’s mouth, where it was eagerly met by Serena’s own.  Serena’s head was spinning with desire, her senses entirely consumed by the feel of Bernie’s mouth upon hers, and the sensation of their bodies pressed together, softness where she was used to hard planes.  As they continued to kiss, Bernie was letting out helpless little moans of need, each one tightening the tug of desire that ran through Serena’s body.  Their embrace became more and more frenzied, hands stroking feverishly, brief pauses for air swiftly ended as lips crashed together again and again.  Finally, Serena pulled away slightly, raking her gaze across Bernie’s passion swollen lips.  She rested her forehead against Bernie’s.

“Bernie?”

“Hmm?”

“Take me to bed?”

Bernie was the one to pull away this time.

“Serena, are you sure?  We don’t have to do that.  We could wait…”

“I'm very sure.”

They stood together for a moment, Serena meeting Bernie’s earnest gaze, her own eyes blazing with need.  Finally, Bernie gave a small nod.  Needing no further encouragement, Serena took Bernie’s hand, and led her out of the kitchen and up the stairs, into her bedroom.  Bernie carefully shut the door behind them, and turned once more to look at Serena.  Desire had been tempered by a flare of nerves as the reality of what they were about to do kicked in, and once again, Bernie shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, until Serena stepped close again and rested her hands on Bernie’s arms.

“I didn’t ask - I should have asked.  Is this what you want, too?”

“Oh, yes, I do want this.  But it’s just that you’ve never, well, you know.  And it’s all happening so quickly, and what if you don’t like it?  I would hate it if, I mean, I just want it to be good for you, I just want to make you feel good.”  said Bernie with an agonized look.

“Bernie, simply kissing you makes me feel amazing.  I want to be with you, I want to learn how to make _you_ feel good, in the way I know you’ll make me feel.  Show me, please?”

Bernie’s concerns melted under Serena’s imploring gaze.  

“Oh, Serena!” she exclaimed, capturing Serena’s lips once more in a heated kiss.  Serena’s hands snaked up around Bernie’s neck as she pressed her body hard against Bernie’s, grinding her hips forward.

“Serena, I want you so much!” breathed Bernie.  “You will tell me to stop if it gets too much?”

“Mmm” said Serena dreamily, totally focussed on the sensations running through her body as she moved against Bernie.  She pulled Bernie’s head forward to kiss her once more.

Bernie reached up to cup Serena’s jaw, brushing her lips over and over Serena’s, gently nipping and sucking, and flicking with her tongue.  Allowing Serena to increase the pressure and depth of the kiss, she leaned forward, lowering her hands to slowly undo the buttons on Serena’s shirt.  As she unfastened the last one, she slid her hands underneath, stroking the soft, warm flesh of Serena’s sides and back.  Impatient, yet without breaking the kiss, Serena shrugged the shirt off, allowing it to pool at her feet.  She then pulled back for a moment, watching Bernie’s face as she grabbed her hand and pulled it up to place it on her breast.  Bernie’s lips quirked in appreciation as she stroked along the edge of Serena’s bra, where fabric met flesh.  Serena lifted her own hands to brush down the front of Bernie’s shirt.  Reassured by Bernie’s murmur of approval, she explored the shape of Bernie’s breasts through the fabric.  Arching forward into Serena’s hands, Bernie slid her hands around Serena’s back, unfastening Serena’s bra.

Bernie’s eyes never left Serena’s as she gently pushed the straps from Serena’s shoulders. She slipped the bra off and threw it aside before running her hands back up Serena’s arms, pausing briefly at her shoulders.  Bernie then slid her hands slowly across Serena’s collar bones and down, grazing the sides of her breasts before cupping their weight in her hands, thumbs lightly flicking across Serena’s nipples.  Bernie watched as Serena’s eyelids flickered shut, and she allowed her head to fall backwards and her mouth open slightly, breath exhaled in a gasp.  Only then did Bernie allow her gaze to follow the path her hands had taken, her own breath quickening as she took in Serena’s breasts for the first time.

“So gorgeous!” she groaned, before lowering her lips to Serena’s neck, dragging her palms lightly over Serena’s nipples before beginning to gently pinch and pull at them.  Bernie’s lips traced a path downward, finally joining her fingers as she knelt before Serena, pulling a nipple into her mouth, working it with tongue and teeth until Serena grabbed onto Bernie’s shoulders to keep herself upright.  

“I want to take your shirt off!” Serena groaned.

Bernie moved her own hands to the buttons on her shirt.

“No!” said Serena.  “ _I_ want to do it.”

Bernie released Serena’s nipple with a gentle pop, and stood up in front of Serena once more.  Serena’s hands were shaky as she undid Bernie’s buttons without preamble, pausing a moment after releasing the last button.  She slowly pulled the two halves of the shirt apart, lips parting as she drank in the definition of Bernie’s torso, and the swell of her breasts showing above the top of her bra.  

“You’re perfect!” she exclaimed, stroking her hands across Bernie’s toned stomach as she leaned forward to press a kiss between her breasts.  As she continued to pepper kisses across the swell of Bernie's breasts, her hands dropped to the waistband of Bernie’s jeans, and she began to fumble with the button there.  Bernie’s hands shot up to cover hers, stilling her movements.

“We don’t have to rush this, Serena!” gasped Bernie, fingers clenching reflexively in the effort to rein in her desire.

“I want to see more of you” muttered Serena, her face still resting against Bernie’s chest.  

Powerless to resist, Bernie loosed her grip, allowing Serena to release the fastening, and draw the snug jeans down from Bernie’s thighs, and throw them off to the side.  Standing, Serena walked around behind Bernie, trailing her hand across Bernie’s body as she went.  She eased the open shirt down from Bernie’s shoulders, dropping it and leaving her standing in just her underwear.  She flicked open Bernie's bra, dispensing with that too, before commencing a thorough exploration of the back of Bernie’s body with her fingertips.  The room was silent but for the sounds of their mingled breaths, and the small gasps and moans as they revelled in new discoveries.  Bernie stood as still as she could, both women utterly absorbed in Serena’s actions, Serena herself lost in discovery at a beauty she had never before imagined, the softness and curves of a woman's body.  And Bernie’s every sense was tuned in completely to Serena’s touch, the soft sound of Serena’s breath, and the small noises of appreciation she made as she took Bernie in.  Bernie didn’t think she had ever in her life been so thoroughly _seen_ , so thoroughly admired.  And when Serena’s exploration of her back was completed, and she moved to stand in front of her once more and began a similar study of her front, Bernie felt almost faint with arousal.  The look on Serena’s face, a look of such intense desire and approval, eyes dark, skin flushed, tongue darting out to moisten her parted lips as she hooked her fingers into Bernie’s pants and drew them down her legs, running her hands back up Bernie’s thighs to lightly brush past her curls in their journey toward her breasts, was the last straw in breaking Bernie’s resolve to allow Serena to set the pace.  Crashing her lips down on Serena’s, she slid her hands around to cup Serena’s bottom, dragging her tightly against her as she worked a thigh between Serena’s legs.  Serena moaned into Bernie’s mouth, and began grinding down against her thigh, her heat apparent even through her clothes.  Bernie’s hands moved immediately to the front of Serena’s trousers, pausing for a moment to allow Serena to call a halt.

“Oh, yes, Bernie!” gasped Serena instead, and unable to hold back any longer, Bernie pulled off Serena’s trousers and pants in one movement, manoeuvering her backward to the bed, and clambering on, pulling Serena with her, until they were sitting facing each other, Serena between Bernie’s open legs, her own legs wrapped around Bernie’s body.  Bernie began kissing Serena, slow, drugging kisses, as her hands slipped down to brush across Serena’s breasts again.  Serena’s body jerked as if a charge of electricity had run through her.

“Please, Bernie!  I need you!” she ground out.

Taking pity on her, Bernie stroked her hand down to Serena’s sex, trailing a finger through the curls and downward, her heart hammering as she felt the incredible heat and wetness there.  Stroking the length of Serena’s sex, she circled Serena’s clit twice, three times, mesmerised with adoration as she watched Serena jerk with each pass, before finally stroking the pad of her finger across the swollen organ.

Serena couldn’t take any more.  “Oh, my god, I’m…” she threw back her head, arching her back, her eyes screwed shut and her mouth open as she gasped her orgasm to the room.  She clung to Bernie’s shoulders as Bernie gently eased her through the aftershocks.

“I’m sorry!” she said as she came back down.

“Whatever for?” asked Bernie, incredulously.

“For, you know!  It just that I’ve never, well, been so quick! “

“My beautiful Serena, it’s not over yet!  We’re only just beginning.  That was just to take the edge off.  Now this, this will last as long as we want it to...”

                                                  ________________________

Later that night, they lay in each other's arms, sated and drowsy.  Serena’s head was resting in the crook of Bernie’s neck, and Bernie was lazily stroking the back of Serena’s neck, making Serena hum with pleasure.

“How do you feel?” asked Bernie softly.

“Amazing!” Serena tilted her head back to smile up at Bernie.  “I feel amazing.  I never knew, never imagined, it could be anything like this!”

“So, you’re still sure?” Bernie checked, hesitantly.

“More sure than ever!” Serena assured, then she tensed, suddenly concerned.  “But, how do _you_ feel?  I mean, was it all okay… for you?”

“I think we _both_ know it was good for me!  Several times!”  said Bernie, humour gleaming in her eyes..

“So, are we… will you… I want to see you again!” Serena blurted out.

“Good!” affirmed Bernie, “because I plan to see you rather regularly.  Assuming that’s ok!”

Serena relaxed once more.

“I rather think you're stuck with me now, Ms Wolfe!” she said.

“Do you now?!” Bernie lowered her hand, tickling Serena lightly across her ribs.

Giggling, Serena rolled on top of Bernie, grabbing her wrists and pinning them to stop her from ticking any more.  Bernie wriggled beneath her, licking her lips suggestively.

“Mmm!  Must be quite the thrill, being arrested by you!  It almost makes me wish I’d committed some not-too-heinous crime in my youth, so I could have met you sooner!” she said.

Serena laughed again, dropping a kiss on Bernie’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, Bernie, but I just can’t quite see you doing anything nefarious!”  she released Bernie’s wrists, cupping her cheeks instead, the humour leaving her face for something more primal as she gazed into Bernie’s eyes.  

“You’re not the criminal sort.”  she kissed her deeply, pouring all her emotions into the kiss.  “No, _your_ only crime was to steal my heart!”

 

[](http://s1146.photobucket.com/user/Alielp/media/YOCWTSMH%20Chapter%206_zpsdrizvysr.jpg.html)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has taken the time to leave kudos, and most particularly to leave a comment. I’m not a big fan of my own writing, and write far more than I share, so those comments mean so much. Again, thank you!
> 
> Whilst I’ve been writing this, I’ve been incredibly inspired by some of the breathtaking manips I’ve seen out there - especially by Kayryn, who is a wonderful, kind and supportive soul (if you haven’t before, you MUST check their work out here on AO3!), and on Tumblr, by Nicolaruth27 (also on AO3, although I think they only post their manips on Tumblr - do have a look!), and I’ve been having a play with creating photo manips myself. I am but a novice, and I didn’t want to do anyone else's work injustice, so I’ve chosen to practice on my own work. As such, I have created a manip for each chapter, which I’ve just updated at the end of each chapter. If you’re so inclined, do go back through the previous chapters and tell me what you think of their corresponding art!!!
> 
> It turns out that I am a hopeless romantic (I hang my head in shame!), and I do seem to focus on that side of things even when I plan to make it, ahem, purer smut! Oops. Still, can’t help how I am! Sorry if you’d hoped for spicier, I kind of did too!  
> Finally, if you made it through to the end, I hope you enjoyed it. A x


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